Payment For My Services
by Black-Neko-Chan
Summary: Marik needed to think about getting a new partner. It seemed that Bakura was running out of his usefulness. All the thief wanted to do was touch him instead of evil planning. Warning! Contains yaoi, PWP-ness, and a crazy authoress! M for a reason!


Yo peoples! So this is my first Yu-Gi-Oh fanfic, though hopefully not my last. I have read quite a few though, heheh. Speaking of firsts, this is also my first real lemon. Well, I've written one before, but it wasn't so much about sex as about angsty romance with sex tossed in to make it work. So I guess that does still count, but meh. If this sucks, that's the reason why. I haven't had much experience writting lemon. Anyways, I'll stop babbling and let you get to reading! But first. . .

**Wonderful Magical Disclaimer of Awesome-ness!: **I dun own Yu-Gi-Oh. So don't sue me please!

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Marik had a short fuse. Always had. He wasn't very good at waiting and being patient, instead preferring to go out and accomplish something. Especially when everything he was planning seemed to be faulty and his partner in crime wasn't helping at all. If anything, he was more of a hindrance. So, because of all this Marik was in a very foul, very irritated and frusterated mood. And Bakura was doing nothing to help with that insistent poking of his side.

"Must you do that?!" Marik exploded, banging both of his hands on the table and causing his glass of spring water to topple over and spill it's contents onto the plush carpet. Perfect.

Bakura raised his head just the slightest from where it had been lying on the table and looked at him with a horrible impression of innocence. There was a red mark on his pale cheek from the table.

"Doing what?" He asked, still attempting to act innocent and clueless. Marik's eye twitched.

"Poking me!" He exploded. "We're supposed to be planning on how to overthrow the Pharaoh, but instead you're lying here half sprawled out on my table and preventing me from coming up with anything that could be of any use to us!"

"Piss-y," Bakura drawled, smirking loftly while rolling his eyes at the same time. Marik's hand twitched for his Sennen Rod, which, conveniently enough for Bakura, was hidden in his room just in case Isis came home early (she, like most everyone else, thought that Marik had reformed and was now good along with the rest of those friendship geeks. Ha, how wrong they were). Since getting the Sennen Rod out to control the annoying thief and make him stop that poking was out of the question, Marik briefly considered releasing his yami (oh yes, he was still here too. Malik was a part of him-a trip to the Shadow Realm wouldn't dispell him that easily) and letting him deal with the hapless white-haired moron but decided not too. If he let that psycho out even less work might get done and Marik might not be able to regain control of his body. Instead, he counted to ten slowly and then continued planning. That's right, channel all of that hate and frustration into finding a way to beat that damned Pharaoh.

"I'm bored," Bakura sighed. He had sat up while Marik was going over ways to torture him but now he flopped back down on the table noisily.

"Then do something to entertain yourself, like pick up that glass you made me spill or help come up with a plan," Marik responded through gritted teeth. His idiot partner was really starting to annoy him now. Maybe he should just drop the imbicile and work by himself or get a different partner. Who was that fool who'd held Duelist Kingdom? Pegasus something right? He hated Yuugi didn't he? Or maybe Kaiba could be persuaded somehow to work with him.

"I don't want to plan. It's boring. And I hate cleaning. Ryou always does that," Bakura said. He scratched at his white locks idly for a moment, and then a wicked grin spread across his features. Oh he knew something that would entertain him for sure. . .

Marik tensed immediately when he felt hands on his shoulders. He heard Bakura chuckle behind him.

"No need to tense up Marik," He purred huskily. "I'm just going to give you a back rub, that's all. You look strained and frustrated."

"Because of you!" Marik snapped, still tense. Ra the man was an idiot! This was not what he had meant when he told Bakura to entertain himself! He had wanted him to help work on a plan, not give him a fucking massage!

"Well then I'd say that I owe you, wouldn't you agree? Just sit back and relax Marik. I promise you'll enjoy this. My hands aren't just good for opening locks or stealing. I'm actually quite skilled," Bakura purred silkily. His mouth had gotten much closer now and an involuntary shiver ran down Marik's spine as he felt hot breath on the nape of his neck.

Against his will Marik felt himself start to relax under Bakura's touch as he continued his administrations. Hands wandered along his shoulders and caressed them softly, kneading out all the knots and kinks. Marik felt more comfortable right now than he had in quite a while. Whatever Bakura was doing was working wonders on him as he felt all the stress and frustration he'd been experiencing just melt away.

One of those wonderfully talented hands grazed against one of Marik's many scars and he froze, eyes that he hadn't even realized he had closed opening wide as he gripped the arm of his chair. Bakura noticed this sudden change and stopped what he was doing.

"Are you okay?" He asked, sounding surprisingly concerned.

"F-fine," Marik responded shakily, disgusted at himself by how much something like this shook him up.

"Your scars," Bakura said. Not a question but Marik nodded anyways.

"Do you mind?" He asked. Marik shook his head.

"Okay then." Bakura's hands descended on Marik's shoulders again but this time they didn't stop there. They kept descending until they reached the hemline of his purple midriff shirt and before Marik could protest had yanked it off over his head.

"You said you didn't mind," Bakura chuckled lightly, his face now suspiciously close to Marik's ear, and then he nipped the lobe teasingly before pulling away and continuing with the back rub.

With his shirt off and his back bare for anyone to see Marik felt strangely subconscious and uncomfortable with his appearance. He knew it was stupid but he didn't like anyone to see those scars, not even his sister and brother. Normally he wouldn't let Bakura see them either, especially not touch them, but every time one of those soft hands touched or traced a scar he shuddered, and not in an unpleasant way. The skin there was hyper-sensitive, much more so than on so many other places of his body. And it felt wonderful to have Bakura massaging that area.

Marik was reduced to not much more that a pile of goo in his chair beneath the white-haired thief's skillful touch. All of the plans he's been nurturing in his head were forgotten, and he could hardly remember why he'd been so angry at his partner-in-crime in the first place. All that passed through the Egyptian's mind was how good this all felt. He found himself even moaning a few times, soft, low, needy moans that made the part of his mind that was still thinking embarrassed and flustered and caused Bakura to purr in delight and caress his back gently.

And then, just like that, Bakura was done. He just stopped. Marik opened his eyes slowly, feeling just a little bit confused and that annoyance he had felt earlier slowly intruding on his happy, contented state.

"Why did you stop?" Marik asked crossly, more than a little put off.

"My hands got tired," Bakura shrugged. "It's not like it's easy to do or anything." He plopped back into his chair, smirking a little bit for what reason Marik didn't know. Marik frowned and grabbed his shirt that had been tossed carelessly onto the table, feeling subconscious again now about his back. He meant to put it back on, but Bakura's hand shot out and grabbed the thing away from him.

"Oh you won't be needing to put that back on," Bakura smirked maliciously. Marik's frown deepened. Now what was he talking about?

"You see," The thief began, smirk widening as he stood up out of his chair and went around to the back of Marik's, "I didn't give you that massage for free. Oh no, I'm too much of a conniving, sadistic bastard to be that nice. And now I want payment for my . . . service." That evil grin widened even more as he said that last sentence, not that Marik could see as Bakura was still behind him. One pale hand grabbed the back of the chair and the other followed, then both pulled and slid the chair out from the table. Bakura sauntered to the front of the chair and placed his hands on the arms of the chair. Marik's violet eyes narrowed and he backed into the chair, not sure where this was going but not liking it.

"I'm not giving you any money for a back rub, tomb robber," Marik said. Bakura lifted an eyebrow at that.

"'Tomb robber' huh? Now you sound like the Pharaoh," He chuckled. "I don't want your money, tomb keeper." Bakura moved slowly, placed one leg on the side of the chair and swung himself onto it, nearly tipping the damn thing over. He was seated on Marik's lap, straddling him with one leg on either side of the chair and effectively trapping Marik in the chair unless he pushed him off, which strangely enough Marik didn't want to do, never mind that the chair would most likely tip over.

Bakura leaned closer to Marik, chocolate eyes filled with lust, breath hot against Marik's face, and captured his lips with a possessive growl. Marik wasted no time and responded to the soft lips against his own, deepening the kiss. He felt a tongue on his bottom lip, demanding entrance and he allowed it without thinking, too busy now with his own exploration of Bakura's hot, cavernous mouth to bother thinking about what he was doing.

He moaned around Bakura's lips when one of the thief's hands found his nipples and tweaked the right one harshly while at the same time stroking the back of Marik's mouth with his tongue. His own hands started to explore as well, going up Bakura's blue and white stripped shirt and trailing slowly up his toned abdomen. He felt Bakura shiver and lean into the kiss more, and that sent the chair toppling over backwards and knocking both teens to the floor in a pile of tangled limbs.

Marik landed on the floor first with Bakura on top of him. He winced at his head banged against the floor, even though it was carpeted it still hurt like hell. Bakura, certainly not interrupted by this sudden crash to the floor, got on his hands and knees and situated himself so that he was pinning Marik underneath him. Long wisps of white hair tickled Marik's bare chest in a way that made him wish that those strands of hair were actually the thief's fingers, but he snarled and pushed Bakura off him.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He demanded harshly of the slightly surprised other. Falling from the chair had not only hurt but it had knocked some sense back into the Egyptian and now that he was thinking clearly there was no way he was going to do -that- with his idiot of a partner, no matter how much his body ached for that fiery hot contact again.

"I believe I was accepting my payment," Bakura replied nonplused, sounding smug if anything. Marik's eyes narrowed dangerously and he scooted further away and say upright.

"You aren't getting any 'payment.' Now get out of here!" He spat viciously. Bakura chuckled and crawled over to Marik, hips swaying hypnotically in the air and reminding Marik of a cat. He'd always hated cats. Bakura got closer but Marik stood his ground, glaring at the thief the whole time.

Bakura smirked, loving how this was playing out. He knew that Marik would be a bitch to seduce, but this was even better than what he'd been expecting. The blonde wasn't going to make this easy for him in any sense of the word, but that was fine because it would only make victory all the more a sweeter flavor. And he would win in the end. Marik really shouldn't have told him to find a way to entertain himself. That was just asking for trouble.

"Now now now Marik, let's calm down. I don't think you really want me to leave. I can't help you with your problem then," Bakura smirked, gesturing downward. Marik followed his gaze and flushed angrily. He was aroused. The bastard had gotten him hard. That was just even better. He looked in Bakura's direction. Speaking of problems, he sported one of his own.

"You're so cute sometimes," Bakura drawled, inching even closer. He draped his arms lavishly over Marik's shoulders and started tracing designs into his back.

"I'm not cute," Marik disagreed rebelliously. He was quickly losing any control over the situation that he'd had, mind clouding once again and his blush growing darker. Bakura moved closer to him, nearly on top of him, and nudged open Marik's legs with his knee so he could get closer. Marik groaned as the felt the thief's "problem" graze against his own and weakly tried to push the other man off him in vain.

"Right now you are most definitely cute. And all mine. Aren't I lucky?" Bakura murmured huskily against Marik's ear, sending shivers down him. He bit down on his lip to suppress another groan as Bakura attacked his neck, nibbling and kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh. Any resistance Marik had left crumbled and now he groaned and grabbed a fistful of Bakura's white hair, bringing the thief's attention away from his neck and back to his lips.

Their tongues danced as they had before while their hands wandered. Marik decided then that Bakura's shirt was no longer needed and broke their contact long enough to get the damned thing over his head, both of them breathing heavily, before Marik pushed Bakura to the floor and assaulted his previously covered chest.

He spent a few moments on Bakura's adam's apple, biting it hard enough to make the man underneath him cry out and to leave marks, then licking it soothingly as an apology before moving slowly down his chest. He stopped at the nipples, grabbing one to toy with between his fingers and leaving the other to occupy his mouth. He sucked on it, then nibbled lightly like Bakura had done to his earlobe. His hand pulled at the other one, tugging it a little before he moved downward still, leaving a shiny trail of saliva running down the thief's chest and abdomen.

Before he could go any lower Bakura rolled out from underneath him and switched their positions. His hands trailed down Marik's chest, leaving red scratch marks until he reached the zipper of his black pants.

"I don't like being on the bottom too much. I hope you don't mind because that's not going to change," Bakura said, bringing down Marik's zipper as he did. Once again he leaned in and captured Marik's mouth in his, their kiss-swollen lips and tongues moving to a dance that by now they were very familiar with. One of Bakura's hands rested in his hair, gripping a handful of blonde locks to keep Marik in place where he wanted him. His other hand was much more adventurous, snaking into the Egyptian's pants and underneath the boxers he wore to grasp his fully aroused cock.

Marik broke away from the heated kiss with a sharp hiss at the sudden bolt of pleasure that ran through his bod and made his toes curl. Foreplay was good and all, but this was what he was after. This pleasure, this feeling.

"Bastard," Marik hissed.

"Don't you love it," Bakura smirked. He sat up and grabbed Marik's troublesome pants, pulled them off and threw them somewhere in the room. He moved to pull down his boxers too but Marik scooted out of his grasp. Bakura frowned at him.

"I might have to be bottom," Marik growled, "But I won't just sit here and let you dominate everything." Bakura grinned at him.

"Wouldn't dream of it," He replied huskily. Marik's features contorted in a smirk of their own and he pounced on the thief, once again pining him underneath and grabbed at his jeans, pulling them off and tossing them to join his own on the floor. He stripped the thief of his own boxers too before he could try to regain control.

"Like what you see?" Bakura smirked, noticing Marik eyeing his throbbing erection. In reply Marik bent down and licked the underside of his length. So far the only one to be moaning had been him. He was going to make the white-haired teen underneath him scream his name.

Without warning he took Bakura's length in his mouth. Bakura moaned, caught off guard by the sudden pleasure and grabbed Marik's hair. Marik ran his tongue down the thief's shaft, and then nipped down on the head. Bakura arched his back, trying to get more of himself into that hot mouth and yanked Marik's head down. Marik growled at the sudden pain as his hair was pulled and nipped again, this time not so softly.

"Ra Marik!" Bakura shouted. The blond smirked and chuckled lowly, causing the other male to buck again. He continued his administrations, loving the sounds he made come out of the other's mouth, loving the control he felt right now, but feeling a bit unattended to himself. So, fun as this was, he stopped.

Bakura growled when he pulled away, annoyed that the blonde-haired teen had stopped, then slowly smirked. His payment wasn't finished yet. He got up and flipped Marik over, switching their positions again. He let his hands linger on Marik's own erection for a moment, making the other grind his hips upward, before lowering and pushing a finger inside the other teen. Marik stopped his bucking immediately in favor of squirming to try and get away from the unwelcome intrusion.

"Stop it and relax. I don't want to hurt you too badly," Bakura said. Marik said nothing but stopped moving and closed his eyes in an effort to calm himself. Bakura added another finger, making Marik wince. The haze in his mind was clearing again and he wondered what in the world he was doing. He was supposed to be plotting the Pharaoh's demise, not doing this!

A third finger brought Marik's attention away from his thoughts and back on what was happening to him now. He actually yelped as this strange comfortable feeling grew, making Bakura stop thankfully for a moment, but soon he began moving and scissoring his fingers again. It occurred to him that if he didn't want to do this he had to say so now or he wouldn't be able to later. He said nothing.

"Are you ready?" Bakura asked. He nodded, not trusting himself to say the right thing. He had dealt with worse pain before. He could handle this. Bakura positioned himself at Marik's entrance and lowered his head to capture Marik in a hard, lip-bruising, teeth-clashing kiss as he pushed himself in. Marik groaned around his mouth and started scrabbling to get away again but Bakura placed one hand on his taunt bronze stomach to keep him there and reconnected their lips again as he pushed in deeper and withdrew the first few times. Marik's hand clenched into a fist but he stopped moving and returned the hot, passionate kisses in an attempt to distract himself from the pain he felt.

It hurt less when Bakura established a rhythm, but it was still nowhere near as enjoyable as Marik thought it would be. Having the thief inside of him was an unpleasant feeling and was awkward and hurt. He was unaccustomed to being stretched this much and sometimes had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out.

Marik was still tense and hadn't relaxed at all, making it hard for Bakura to move around the tight sheath surrounding him. It was uncomfortable for him too, but he kept going, determined to find that one spot that he knew would make the one underneath him go crazy and make this worth it for the both of them. He knew he had succeeded when Marik cried out in surprised pleasure. Despite himself he smirked and made it a point to hit that all-important spot over and over.

Marik moaned again and again, and now his hips began to move in rhythm with Bakura's, helping him go deeper and sending both of them over the edge into a state of ecstasy. Marik arched his back to allow easier entrance and grabbed onto Bakura's shoulders.

"Ah . . .! Ra Marik!" Bakura shouted.

"Go faster! . . . Harder! Just . . . do more!" Marik demanded. Another moan escaped his lips, the ending of it trailing off into a sort of throaty growl as Bakura did as he was asked, whether it was of his own accord or just some primitive instinct taking over.

Their bodies slapped against each other in sync, creating a sort of song between that and the noises of their lovemaking. Sweat drenched the immediate area around them and the windows had steamed up. Neither of them were being particularly quiet but neither of them cared, the only thing on their minds what they were doing and the pleasure they felt.

"A-ah! . . . Ngh . . . Bakura!" Marik screamed. He tightened his grip on the other's shoulders, digging into the flesh with his nails as his orgasm ripped through him. The sudden tightening of muscles around Bakura almost caused his release as well, but he reigned it in and thrusted a few more times before he too screamed as he came.

Both of them collapsed on the ground and Bakura mustered enough energy to pull out of Marik and roll over so he was no longer on top of him. Both of them lied there, panting heavily, sweat coating their spent bodies along with several other markings from this encounter. Marik turned on his side to look at the teen with the white hair and he did the same. Both of them stared at the other, silent except for the sounds of their heavy breathing.

"I hate you," Marik said quietly.

"Aw. . . that's too bad. Because I love my little Marik-chan," Bakura teased. He moved a hand to play with one of Marik's sweaty blonde ringlets, twirling it between his fingers. Marik didn't bother wasting energy to bat him away, settling for a glare instead.

"Bastard," He said.

"Pissy little bitch," Bakura responded, smiling in a mockingly sweet way. He stopped playing with the lock of hair and wrapped his arms wound Marik, pulling him closer to his chest. Marik's own followed his example and encircled Bakura's sweaty waist. He felt Bakura settle into his hair and sigh. He scooted closer to the thief's chest and closed his eyes.

"Hey Bakura . . .?" Marik mumbled, pushing back his drowsiness for a moment.

"Hmm?" Bakura asked.

"I think I came up with a good plan to defeat the Pharaoh," Marik said.

"Oh really?" Bakura asked, sounding amused, "Well then I guess I helped after all."

"Yeah," Marik laughed. "We should do this more often." Bakura laughed too, a deep sound that rumbled through his chest and caused Marik to become even drowsier.

"Don't worry, we will," Bakura promised. Marik nodded and scooted closer to Bakura, now allowing exhaustion to cause him to sleep.

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Whee! So that was my attempt at yaoi! Review and tell me how it was please! Constructive criticism will be very much appreciated, because I worked very hard on this! Seriously, I randomly started writing and finished it all in three days. Typed it in two. I never work that much! And I've sort of become obsessed with thiefshipping (which there is definitely not enough of on here!) and I'd like to write much more fics with this pairing, so it's quite important that my characterization and everything is good.

Just a little non-important side note: I was thinking about continuing this with making Isis walk in on them after wards but decided against it. Would have been quite funny I'm sure, but there wouldn't have been enough to write about for a second chapter, and it really wouldn't have fit if I just tacked it on the ending of this. So nope, Isis gets spared the sight of seeing her brother all nakkie and cozy on the floor with the Thief King.

And for another really non-important side note: Oh, my title sucks because I'm really bad at that area of writing, but that's okay since I actually like this one. It's poetic-y like. Or something. And you probably don't care at all but I told you anyways! Haha!!!!! Review! Pwetty pwease! ^-^ And have a happy holiday, whichever one it is that you choose to celebrate!


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